Harry Potter and the Power of the Prophecy
by WaylaidWanderer
Summary: Devastated by Sirius' death, Harry realizes he is not doing enough. He begins to take matters into his own hands as he attempts to find the power in the prophecy, helped by one Hermione Granger, to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Independent!Harry, HHr
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Power of the Prophecy

Chapter 1 – Summer Beginnings

The one thing that Harry Potter of Number Four, Privet Drive, wanted more than anything else in the world was to be normal. Sadly, he was anything but. Even from his birth he was the target of a murdering megalomaniac styling himself Lord Voldemort, defeated by his reflected killing curse.

Ever since Harry was thrust into the weird but wonderful world of magic, he had never gotten a day's rest save for his brief stints at the Dursley's during the summer holidays. And that's where he was now. Not at the Dursley's exactly, but at the park a distance away from Number Four, sitting morosely on a swing and thinking about the events that had transpired last school year.

Sirius was dead. And Harry was to blame. Or rather, that's how Harry felt. After all, how could he not feel that way? It was his idea to go to the Ministry to save Sirius... if he had thought of the mirror... he cursed himself then for his stupidity. How could it have slipped his mind so completely? The risks Sirius took in flooing him, and the risks Harry took in fooling Sirius, could have been avoided if he had only remembered the mirrors...

And guilt, along with overwhelming sorrow, washed over him once more. Harry bowed his head, feeling tears rising in his eyes. He did not want anyone to see him cry, but he just missed Sirius _so much_. Sirius was the man who was like a father and a friend rolled into one. He was the person appointed by his parents to be his Godfather; he was the man who brought could always cheer him up when he needed someone to fill the role that his two best friends could not... A tear tracked its way down his face, glistening in the bright sunlight. Another followed. Harry wiped them away angrily with the back of his hand.

"My fault," Harry muttered. "It's all my fault."

"It wasn't."

Harry whirled around, falling off the swings as he did so. Landing on the ground, he scrambled to his feet and whipped his wand out. At the end of it was... Nymphadora Tonks.

"Tonks?" Harry said, lowering his wand slowly.

Tonks, her hair spiked and bubble-gum pink, gave him a small smile. There was a hint of sadness in it. "Wotcher, Harry."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, confused at the sudden appearance of the perky Auror and Order member.

"Professor Dumbledore put me on today's rotation. We're supposed to keep an eye on you." Tonks answered.

"But I've been here in... this place for almost a week. Why haven't I seen any of you before now?" Harry asked.

"Professor Dumbledore's orders," Tonks answered. "We're supposed to keep out of sight. I'm breaking the rules by talking to you, but... I had to."

Harry looked at Tonks, wondering what she meant.

"It wasn't your fault." Tonks said, looking at him steadily. "It's not your fault, Harry!"

"But my friends got hurt because of me. S-Sirius... he died because of m-me." Harry couldn't stop the tears from coming. "If I hadn't... If I remembered..."

"Listen to me. _It's not your fault._" Tonks repeated forcefully, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. She led him to a bench and sat, pulling him down with her. "You may have gone to the Ministry, but Sirius was the one that chose to come after you, to help you. And I'm not saying it's his fault either. The only person to blame here is Bellatrix Lestrange." The name was spat out.

"He wouldn't have been there-"

"He chose to come, Harry, and that's what's important! It wasn't anyone's fault but Bellatrix's that he died!"

"We wouldn't have needed saving if it wasn't for me." Harry whispered, looking at the ground. The yellow grass remained stationary in the dry summer heat. "He's dead. The only person that was like true family to me. My Godfather. And now he's gone."

"Oh, Harry." Tonks looked at him sadly, her heart going out towards the suddenly vulnerable looking boy. She took his hand in hers. "I miss him too."

"That's right, he was your cousin." Harry muttered thickly. "I forgot. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Harry." Tonks squeezed his hand. "Sirius is gone, I know. All we can do now is to honour his memory. Cherish the times we had with him. Remember the good times, but not wallow in misery. It's what he would have wanted for us."

"You're... you're right, Tonks." Harry said, wiping away his tears. "Thanks. I needed that."

"Me too," Tonks replied. At Harry's look of confusion, she clarified. "I've been feeling guilty too. I keep thinking that I could have watched out for him better in the fight, but I didn't. And I miss him a lot too. He could always make me laugh when he wasn't being moody. Talking to you helped me sort out my emotions too."

And she pulled Harry into a hug.

"Don't forget, Harry, we'll always be there for you. Me, your friends, the whole Order. All of us."

Harry said nothing, simply nodding, letting himself feel the comfort that Tonk's hug provided.

When she finally let go, Harry asked tentatively, "Will I... will I be able to talk to you again?"

"That wouldn't be a good idea, Harry. My orders were to watch you and not be seen. I've already disregarded my orders today." Tonks looked at him apologetically.

"T-That's okay." Harry said quietly. "I suppose I'll be out of here in another week or so anyway. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to for once though."

Tonks' heart went out to the dark haired teenager sitting beside her. She wished that she could do something, but... wait.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I might not be able to talk to you, but what about Hermione?"

Harry frowned. "Hermione? Writing letters is great but... it's slow and -"

"No, silly, I meant - she's a muggleborn, she can visit you! She won't need to use magical transportation so it would be safe!"

Harry's eyes lit up. "Tonks, you're wonderful! I never thought of that. It would be nice to see her again."

Tonks smiled, glad that she could cheer him up. She stood up and said, "Well, the end of my shift is approaching. Someone else will be taking over soon, so I'll see you... when I see you, I guess."

Harry stood up as well. "Thanks, for everything, Tonks." His tone was sincere.

"Anytime, Harry." She gave him a small salute, draping an invisibility cloak over herself as she walked away. A few moments later, a distant _crack_ signalled the sound of Tonks' Disapparition.

Harry headed back to Number Four with a quicker pace than usual. He looked forward to hearing from Hermione again. Once in his room, he rummaged around his trunk looking for a piece of paper Hermione had given him summers ago. His trunk's contents were arranged haphazardly, with things everywhere and in no particular order. Harry dug around the edges and the corners of his trunk until he finally pulled out the scrap of paper upon which was written Hermione's phone number.

He went downstairs and into the living room. Uncle Vernon was on the couch, looking as usual like an overgrown walrus, except this walrus was reading a newspaper. Harry cleared his throat. "Er, Uncle Vernon?"

His only reply was a grunt to indicate that he had heard him.

"I need to use the telephone, is that okay?"

"What do people like you need a telephone for?" Uncle Vernon said nastily, lowering his newspaper and narrowing his eyes at his nephew. "Can't you just use that blasted owl of yours?"

"I just need to call a friend." Harry replied calmly. "It's quicker this way."

Uncle Vernon's face turned red, his lips twisting into an ugly scowl. "If it's that freak idiot friend of yours who yelled into the phone -"

"No, she's muggleborn. Her parents are both dentists. She was raised... normally."

Uncle Vernon paused, considering Harry's words. "Dentists..." he muttered. "Respectable profession I suppose... probably rich..."

"Yes, well... I need to call her." Harry said.

Uncle Vernon waved a hand at him. "Fine, use the telephone then. I suppose I'll give you some ruddy privacy as well; I don't want to be around to hear any freakish conversation." Uncle Vernon heaved himself off the couch, leaving a large imprint on the seat, and went into the kitchen presumably to fix a snack for himself.

Harry picked up the telephone immediately, punching in the numbers Hermione had given him, and waited. On the fourth ring, a woman's voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Er, hello, can - may I speak to Hermione please?" Harry ventured, suddenly feeling nervous. What if it was the wrong number? What if Hermione didn't want to talk to him after she was injured because of him insisting on going go the Ministry?

His first fear was assuaged as the woman - Hermione's mother, Harry supposed - said, "I'll go get her. Can I let her know who's speaking?"

"Harry, Harry Potter."

Harry heard a soft intake of breath on the other end of the phone. "Just a moment please."

"Thank you." Harry waited for Hermione to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" Hermione's voice came on over the telephone after what seemed like an impossibly long stretch of time.

"Hi Hermione, it's me."

"Oh my god Harry! I can't believe it's you! Well I know mom said but - how did you get my number? Why are you calling? Is everything okay? Are you okay? I was so worried about you - oh, I still can't believe it's you!"

"Calm down, Hermione!" Harry said, chuckling, relief washing over him as his second fear disappeared. "Everything's fine! I kept your number from a couple summers ago, and I'm calling because I just realized I could. Can you visit? I'd love some company."

"Number Four, Privet Drive? Oh... it's kind of far..." Hermione said, hesitating, "But yes, yes of course, Harry! I'd love to see you again! Can we go somewhere else though? I don't really want to meet your horrid aunt and uncle and that cousin of yours."

Of course," Harry said, happy at the prospect of Hermione visiting. "There's a nice restaurant a bit away from here; we can have lunch there."

Harry told Hermione the address. "So when can you visit?"

"I can come tomorrow; I'll take the bus - the regular one, to be safe. I can't wait to see you again, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's great hearing from you!"

"You too, Hermione. Tomorrow at 1:00 PM then?"

"That works. I'll see you then! We have a lot to talk about, Harry!"

"Yeah, we do." Harry replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye Harry!"

"Bye Hermione."

Harry hung up, feeling a curious sense of loss. Hearing Hermione's voice felt great. It was nice hearing from his best friend (beside Ron, of course) again, and on top of that, he would get to see her tomorrow! But for now, life would have to return to the dreary monotony that was his stay in Number Four, Privet Drive.

As what seemed to be usual now, Harry was mostly left alone by his relatives. Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon largely ignored him, and aside from a few odd, indecipherable glances from Dudley, nothing of interest happened. However, that gave Harry far too much time to think. It was the only complaint he had about his situation, but on the whole he was rather grateful that he was left alone.

Harry slept that night fitfully, although he had trouble falling asleep at first because of his anticipation of the next day.

For once, he didn't dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Lunch with Hermione

"Get up! I need you to make breakfast today! Up!"

Harry woke up to the sounds of Aunt Petunia's shrill voice and her sharp raps on the door.

"I'm up, I'm up." Harry blinked blearily as the last vestiges of sleep left him. Listening to Aunt Petunia go downstairs, Harry pulled his shirt over his head and put on his trousers. He proceeded to the bathroom and went through the rituals of getting ready for the day. Making breakfast was still his duty, but to be honest, Harry did not mind. He enjoyed doing it; the results of the perfect blend of tastes that Harry could create was ultimately rewarding for him.

Just as he was finishing up, the door opened, revealing Dudley's stocky frame in the entrance. Dudley froze, his expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh... I didn't know you were in here... I'll come back later."

Fighting the urge to laugh at the uncomfortable expression on his cousin's face and noting the fact that it was the longest phrase that Dudley had spoken to him during the whole week that he had been there, Harry replied, "It's fine, I'm just about done here. Go ahead and use it, breakfast will be ready for you a bit after you're done." This was said without any real animosity on Harry's part, being used to it, however Dudley seemed to wince slightly.

"Yeah... thanks..." The last word was said so quickly that Harry wasn't sure he heard it at all. Dudley ducked his head and began brushing his teeth, not looking at Harry again. Harry left the bathroom, pondering the strange enigma that Dudley Dursley was turning out to be.

As he began making breakfast, frying the delicious strips of bacon, Harry's thoughts turned to Hermione.

_Hermione._

Harry would finally get to see her again, after almost a week of being apart. At Hogwarts the trio of friends had spent so much time together that being separated from his friends felt strange; a foreign situation. He was saddened that he could not invite Ron, but it was just too risky and his red-headed friend would simply fail at blending into the Muggle environment Harry was currently in.

Removing the strips of bacon from the frying pan, Harry added a bit more oil and whisked four eggs together, adding a pinch of salt. As he lost himself yet again to his thoughts, letting his hands take over the task he had done many times in his life, he remembered the letter Professor Dumbledore had sent him. He would be coming here, to Privet Drive in a week, to pick up Harry to move him to the Burrow. His thoughts turned to the fight he had with his Headmaster, and he sighed in frustration. If only Professor Dumbledore had told him everything from the start, he would have known about the prophecy. Then perhaps... perhaps he wouldn't have gone to the Ministry. Then perhaps Sirius needn't have...

But no. He had to stop blaming himself; he had to stop blaming others for Sirius' death. The sole blame was on Bellatrix's shoulders, and Harry would make certain that she paid for everything twice over. Perhaps he and Neville could draw straws as to who had the right to kill her in the end. Harry's lips quirked as he envisioned them doing just that.

Soon, morning passed and the sun was high in the sky, brightening his dismal looking bedroom. Harry got ready to go, trying to make himself look presentable for once. He had not gone anywhere very public in Surrey for a long time, and he was determined not to give people more reasons to believe that he really was a boy from St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. And so he rummaged through the closet, looking for some of Dudley's hand-me-downs which were in a more acceptable condition. He ended up wearing a plain black polo shirt a size or three too large, and a pair of jeans that he had to tighten a lot with a belt so that it would not fall down. And as always, his hair would not stay down.

"I'm going out!" Harry called as he opened the door. No sounds of protest were heard, so Harry took it as a sign of acquiescence and left Number Four, Privet Drive.

The restaurant Harry was to meet Hermione in was situated in Greater Whinging. It was too far to walk, and thus he took the bus instead. He ended up being a quarter hour early to the restaurant and decided to go in first to reserve a table and wait for Hermione.

"Hi, could I get a table for two, please, and preferably somewhere a bit more private?" Harry asked a pretty looking young waitress with blonde hair and sky-blue eyes near him.

"No problem," the waitress smiled at him, leading him to a table in the corner of the restaurant. Handing him a menu, she asked, "Will that be all, or would you like to order now?"

"Thank you ma'am, but I'll wait until my friend gets here." Harry said with a polite smile.

The waitress returned his smile and said, "No problem. And please, call me Shannon. I'll be back when you're ready to order. If you need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you Shannon. You can call me Harry then. And I'll keep that in mind." The waitress gave him another smile and left to help other customers.

_She sure seems nice,_ Harry thought. He fiddled with the silverware and flipped through the menu as he waited for Hermione's arrival. The waitress passed by again, leaving a glass of iced water. Harry checked his watch for the third time since he had arrived. It was one o'clock exactly. Right on cue, the restaurant door opened and Hermione walked in.

It hit him just then what a beautiful girl his best friend really was. The robes that all Hogwarts students had to wear concealed too much of their physiques, and now that Hermione was wearing a simple white t-shirt that hugged her body, showing curves that he had never seen, and jeans that fit her snugly, Harry suddenly had a whole new appreciation for her.

Shaking his head to clear himself of his impure thoughts - _what are you thinking; she's your best mate_ - Harry raised a hand and called, "Oi Hermione! Over here!"

Hermione looked over and beamed as she saw him, hurrying over. Harry stood up as she came near, pulling her chair out for her.

"Right on time! Let me get that for you -" Before he could finish his sentence, he found himself in a tight embrace given the way only Hermione could, suffocating and comforting all at once. Harry was suddenly aware as all those curves he had noticed earlier pressed against him, causing his face to flush.

"Sit down, Hermione," Harry gasped out, attempting to extricate himself from a potentially embarrassing situation. "People are staring."

Hermione withdrew, blushing as she noticed that a few people around her were indeed staring. She sat down as Harry did the same.

"It's good to see you again, Harry." Hermione said in earnest.

"You too, Hermione." Harry replied, smiling. "You look fantastic."

Hermione blushed and lowered her head. "You're just saying that because you're my best friend."

"No really, you do!" Harry insisted. "Those clothes look really good on you. And your hair is nice too."

Hermione gave a small smile. "Thank you then, Harry." Her hair was tied into a ponytail, and appeared to be losing the some of the bushiness that had been so prevalent throughout the years.

"Oh, I see your friend is here!" Shannon, the waitress, was back. She eyed Hermione as she handed her another menu and said, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes with a glass of water for her and to take your order."

"Thanks, Shannon." Harry smiled.

"My pleasure, Harry."

After the waitress left, Hermione raised her eyebrows and said playfully, "Shannon? Harry? On a first name basis already are you?"

Harry blushed and said, "She told me to call her Shannon, so I told her to call me Harry. It seemed like the right thing to do."

"I'm sure... maybe she likes you, Harry!" Hermione said in a teasing tone.

Harry suddenly found the patterns on the tablecloth very interesting.

"I think we should look through the menu now," Harry said in an attempt to change the subject.

Hermione did as Harry suggested but gave him a look to let him know she knew exactly what he was doing.

Soon Shannon returned, holding a notepad, and deposited a glass of water in front of Hermione.

"So," Shannon the waitress said, leaning on the table with her elbows and looking at Harry, "Are you two ready to order?"

Harry and Hermione gave their choices to Shannon. Once she was out of earshot, Hermione said with a smirk, "I'm pretty sure she's attracted to you."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, convinced Hermione was pulling one over on him. "I couldn't tell. I'm sure she doesn't, at any rate."

Hermione shook her head knowingly. "You didn't notice her leaning toward you? That means she wanted to be closer to you, and so, it's obvious she likes you. Boys," Hermione shook her head. "So oblivious to everything."

"Even if she does, it's a moot point." Harry said, his ears burning with embarrassment, ducking his head. "She's not my type. And our lives are completely different. She doesn't have a prophecy hanging over her head." The last sentence was spoken bitterly. Harry raised his head to see Hermione looking at him, confused.

"I - I thought you said the prophecy got smashed!"

Harry shook her head. "It did, but it was just a copy. Listen, I'll tell you about it later, okay? This isn't the place to talk about it. And I want Ron to be there too when I tell you both."

Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something more, but nodded. "Okay Harry, but you have to tell us later. Don't forget!"

"I won't."

Food was served, and Harry and Hermione dug in, although they ate slowly as they were talking to each other most of the time, wanting to capitalize on the time that they could spend together.

"So how have you been, Harry?" Hermione looked at him with a concerned expression.

Harry knew that she was asking about how he was handling Sirius' death. He chewed his mouthful of food slowly before answering, "I'm... fine."

Before Hermione could protest, Harry raised his free hand that was not holding a fork, and said, "No, really, I am! Look, Tonks and I had a talk yesterday..."

And Harry related their conversation yesterday to Hermione, including the knowledge that the Order was guarding him.

Hermione looked at him with her mouth open, and then said, "But that wasn't very safe of Tonks, was it? I mean, if Professor Dumbledore said to keep hidden he must have had a reason..."

"Yeah, and his reason was that he didn't want me to know I was being followed. Well, now I know. So it doesn't matter." Harry said flatly. "Besides, Tonks really helped me see the truth yesterday. I'm really starting to come to terms with... with Sirius' death."

Hermione looked torn between feeling happy that Harry was getting better and feeling disapproval for Tonks' actions. "Well, I'm glad you're okay. Speaking of the Order," Hermione said, "I'm being moved to Grimmauld Place tomorrow."

"Why?" Harry asked, blinking.

"Dumbledore thinks it'd be safer there due to the Fidelius Charm and the Order being there. Mrs. Weasley is very enthusiastic about it." Hermione replied in a matter of fact tone. "And yes, that means Ron and his family will be there too. I keep getting the feeling that Mrs. Weasley wants me to..."

Hermione trailed off, as if not wanting to finish her sentence, but Harry was too busy processing his emotions at her revelation. Hermione must have seen something in his expression, for she asked tentatively, "Harry... are you okay?"

Harry swallowed. He gave a small jerk of his head, and answered. "Yeah. It's just... I hate the fact that I'll be stuck at Privet Drive for another week. I won't be able to see you during that time since you're going to Grimmauld Place, and... I just don't like feeling like I'm left out of the loop."

Hermione's expression softened and she reached across the table to take Harry's hand in hers. "Oh Harry... I know you don't want to be at the Dursley's but hey, it's only one more week. You'll just have to bear it, okay?"

Harry noted how soft Hermione's hands were. He gulped, and said, "Okay."

Hermione gave him a wide smile, and withdrew her hands. Harry felt an unexplainable sense of disappointment. "Great! Now, what have you been up to since coming back here?"

And so they ate lunch together, and Harry filled Hermione in on the things he did while at Privet Drive. The two spent the rest of the afternoon at a nearby park, enjoying the scenery and each other's company. In turn for Harry telling him about his life, Hermione told Harry a bit more about hers outside Hogwarts.

All his life the only thing Harry knew about Hermione's non-magical life was that her parents were dentists, but through Hermione's stories, he learned that her dad was a firm and studious, no-nonsense sort of person, and that her mother, who was a fun-loving person, was the source of her intelligence. Hermione had gotten her hair and her studious nature from her father, and her intelligence and most of her features from her mother, it seemed.

"Sorry," Harry said as they strolled through the park.

"For what, Harry?" Hermione hummed as she walked alongside him. Somehow as they walked, Hermione had ended up holding onto his arm, pressing up against his side.

"For not asking you about your life outside Hogwarts earlier. You must think I'm a prat because I never thought about it. But honestly it just never crossed my mind."

"I understand perfectly," Hermione replied. "I mean, every year we just seem to have a lot on our plates, don't we? We never really have time to just sit down and get to know one another."

"Yeah." Harry smiled. "Hopefully that will change. Maybe this year will be a quiet one. No Voldemort to deal with, if we're lucky... but that's not very likely, is it?"

Hermione clutched onto his arm tighter as he mentioned Voldemort. "We can do this again if you want. Talk and get to know each other better, I mean. Well, I'll be at Grimmauld Place so we can't do it anytime soon, but we can exchange letters until you arrive."

"That'd be wonderful, Hermione."

By then the light of the day was beginning to dim slowly, so they bid their goodbyes to each other. Hermione enveloped Harry in another firm embrace that left Harry feeling light-headed.

At the end of the day, Harry reminisced, it had been one of the better ones he had ever experienced.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thank you very much for all your reviews. I try to reply to all reviews except for Anonymous ones (I'd like to, but I can't), so if you posted a review as Anonymous, thank you very much as well!  
>I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Harry deserves some happiness and friendship in his life after everything.<br>Dudley's definitely going through some changes... only time will tell what happens between him and Harry, so keep an eye out. Harry will also become more studious soon. Sirius' death will have made him realize that he can't waste any time not preparing anymore.


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